


Curiouser and Curiouser

by kissingandcrying



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, merlin trying to be nicer than he is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 04:18:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8563756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissingandcrying/pseuds/kissingandcrying
Summary: Eggsy makes an offhand comment that makes Merlin wanna be a better man. Whatever that means.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InsaneRedDragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneRedDragon/gifts).



 

Sometimes all it takes is an innocuous comment.

It’s certainly what Merlin _assumes_ is an innocent and offhand utterance, not one meant to stir the pot or kick up any sort of jealousy, because it’s said in passing and then seemingly forgotten. Besides, Eggsy’s shared similar sentiments on separate occasions and Merlin’s thought nothing of it. He’s almost shocked to find that it sets his hackles to standing. He’s not oft a jealous man, but apparently all it takes is Eggsy mumbling, “Harry’s never this rough with me” and Merlin goes green.

He stops wiping Eggsy’s wound long enough to look at him, his own knee-jerk reaction to the comment betraying his sense of calm, and then he says as slowly and stiffly as you’d like, “Then why don’t you have Harry come down here and clean it up?”

Eggsy sighs and shakes his head. He’s already muttering an apology when Merlin goes back to wiping the blood from around his forearm, sanitizing the skin in the process. Though he’s gentler than before because god forbid he take care of wounds more roughly than Harry. He swipes the alcohol swab over the laceration all the while repeating the phrase _Harry’s never this rough_ over and over again in his head.  

Sometimes all it takes is an innocuous comment, then before you know it you’ve got something to prove.

 

* * *

 

When Merlin gets home from work that evening, Eggsy’s asleep on the couch. He’s rolled up in a comforter that he’s stolen from one of the beds upstairs (it’s a cotton quilt and so it’s likely Harry’s) and his head is on Harry’s lap, the man’s fingers carding aimlessly through his hair over and over.

The thought that Eggsy’s never curled up on _his_ lap like that is immediate, no doubt brought upon by the earlier comment. It's a silly little thought, but a thought nonetheless. 

“How’d you get him to sleep?” Merlin asks, purposefully busying himself with disrobing. He sets down his briefcase. It takes a lot for Eggsy to fall asleep these days, and _somehow_ Harry’s found the ticket, so he's a bit curious.

“Pet him a bit. He likes being touched. It makes him feel safe.”

Merlin hums and then tosses his coat over the back of the recliner. This must be the gentle that Eggsy’s referring to when he speaks about Harry. Not just the petting, but the entire persona that makes Eggsy feel safe enough to sleep on his lap. It’s not that he’s never fallen asleep beside Merlin - it’s that Merlin's never stayed, and that's likely lead to Eggsy avoiding any attempts to sleep with him altogether.

“What are you thinking about?”

Merlin looks at Harry and it takes a second, but he says, “Undressing a bit.”

“That’s what you’re doing, not what you’re thinking about.” Harry says. “Humour me.”

Merlin hooks a finger under his tie and tugs it loose, yanking it from his neck and dropping it on top of his coat. It’s the same blue necktie he always wears. The one he wears because it’s comfortable and it matches almost every one of his jumpers, not because Eggsy bought it for him to replace the _previous_ one that JB ruined.

There’s no way to bring it up without sounding like he’s complaining. _Oh Harry, I’m just a bit jealous that Eggsy seemingly prefers you over me, because you’re_ gentler _. Awful sorry._ Or maybe, _He said I was rougher than you, and I’m not sure that’s a good thing, so I’m sulking._

Instead, Merlin settles for, “It’s been a long day, Harry. I’m just a bit tired.” He adjusts his browline glasses and then peers at Harry through them. “I’d get the boy up to bed. We have a long day tomorrow.”

Merlin doesn’t stay for the task of waking Eggsy up. He leaves his coat and his tie on the back of the chair and drags himself up to his room.

Sleeping by himself when he’s living in a house with two men who would gladly keep him company is perhaps one of his more daft decisions, made on a whim when he’d thought that he would appreciate the privacy more than the inevitable spooning, and he’s yet to find a way to swallow his pride and take the decision back. So cold, empty room it is.

But it’s one decision on a list of decisions that he’d like to rectify, because Merlin is adaptable - and if there’s one thing he _knows_ he can be, it’s gentle.

 

* * *

 

He asks Eggsy out to lunch.

It’s peculiar because neither of them ever has time for lunch, and Eggsy is obviously stumped by the invitation when he’s cornered in one of the hallways by a determined (albeit visibly exhausted) Merlin, saying, “Do you have any plans to eat today?”

“Ehm.” Eggsy says, startled. He’s looking at Merlin like he’s grown scales. “Yeah - I mean, no. No. Are you _hungry?_ ”

“Not so much. But I’m making time for you.”

“ _Making time for me?_ ” Eggsy asks. The shock is palpable, and then the boy is struggling to clarify that he’d _very much_ like to go out for lunch with Merlin. “Shit, yes! Yeah, uhm. I can. I do. Have time. I have time.”

It’s almost as if they haven’t been going steady for a few months. Merlin will admit that the courting process was a lot more straight-laced than the whole red roses spiel, falling more precariously along the lines of dragging each other home bloodied and bruised and then taking care of each other to the point of fulfillment, but he couldn’t have guessed it to be this bad - where an invitation out leads Eggsy into a tizz that has him gaping like a fish and leaning up against the wall for support.

Merlin sighs and says, “Get back to work. The new recruits need watching. I’ll come grab you when I’ve got a moment.”

And all Eggsy says before he wobbles off to his office is, “Yeah, okay. Alright then.”

Merlin's barely to his office when Harry calls him via the communicator in his glasses. Merlin hits the logo right at the top of them, and there’s not a moment between the action and Harry’s voice asking, quite clearly, _“What’ve you done to Eggsy?”_

“He didn’t tell you?”

 _“I saw him in passing_ .” Harry admits. His voice sounds slightly amused, but it also sounds cautious.  _“I didn’t have the opportunity to ask him or I would have.”_

“I asked him if he was available for lunch.” Merlin says. “I didn’t expect him to go all doe-eyed over it.”

“ _You’ve never asked him to lunch.”_ Harry reminds him. There’s a pause and then, _“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you_ eat _lunch. I’m wondering why you’ve suddenly become interested in real human sustenance.”_

“Right. Now that your bum’s out the window, anything of note you’re actually calling me about?”

 _“No. It was a call of curiosity.”_ Harry says. " _I'll talk to him myself."_

They’re not supposed to use these lines for private matters since recordings are stored and accessible to other agents as well, but Harry knows that and so Merlin doesn’t remind him. Instead he waits for Harry to bid him adieu and then he lets himself into his office to clean up his loose ends before lunch, hoping that no more ‘curiosity calls’ from other agents come through.

* * *

 

Except some paperwork falls through and Merlin has to fix it, and so the lunch doesn’t happen that day.

And then some of the new recruits accidentally set a building on fire, and so the lunch doesn’t happen the next day.

And then again a few days after that, Lancelot gets herself shot in the leg, and so the lunch offer gets taken off the table.

Eggsy’s sent on retrieval with Percival and the two of them catch a jet plane to Russia that doesn’t return until some indecent time in the morning. Merlin is waiting for the three of them in the hangar when they arrive, but it’s all foul moods and fatigued bodies as they drag a semi-conscious Roxy out of the plane.

“Lancelot.” Merlin greets her before she’s hoisted up into Eggsy’s arms and carried to one of the stretchers. The girl is wearing a pair of trousers that are cut mid-thigh, so that the recently sewn wound isn't irritated by the cloth, and Merlin takes a good look at it to assess the damage before saying, “You got the files with only one working leg. I’m impressed.”

It’s clear that Roxy tries to respond, though her lips and brain stop collaborating and instead she slobbers all over her chest. It's the drugs they’d given her on the plane. Eggsy laughs and reaches out to wipe her chin, getting rid of the excess saliva on his suit. “Go to sleep, babe. You can talk in the morning."

“I’ll stay with her.” Percival says, nodding at Eggsy and then Merlin. “You two should go get some sleep too. The sun’s almost rising.”

“Saw it on the skyline when we flew in.” Eggsy clarifies for Merlin, who just looks down at his watch to see what time it actually is. 5:00am. Perfect.

It’s not as if the boy doesn’t already have insomnia. Giving him missions that require his attention until the early hours of the morning is against every effort to fix it. They’ll be home by 5:30, and then Eggsy’ll take himself to the kitchen and dig out his private stash of coffee so that he can pretend he’s taken a few hours of rest, when instead he’s just juiced himself up on caffeine and laid on the couch with JB, staring up at the ceiling.

Merlin and Eggsy  go home together, and Merlin puts in every effort to divert him when he makes a beeline for the kitchen upon entering. Eggsy whinges a bit, but then goes where he's directed, right up the stairs and to the bathroom. No coffee.

“I reckon Harry’s asleep.” Eggsy says at the landing. Harry’s and Eggsy’s bedroom door is closed and the light is off, so it’s a safe bet to say that the man inside is sleeping.

“It’s likely.” Merlin agrees, putting a hand on the small of Eggsy’s back and guiding him in the direction of the loo. Eggsy’s almost to the doors when he stops and turns around into Merlin’s arms, looking up at him curiously.

“So can I sleep with you tonight?”

“What?”

“Harry’s already asleep. I don’t wanna sleep on the couch.”

Eggsy’s never asked to sleep in Merlin’s _bed_ before, and it’s a shock that he’s asking now. When they fall asleep beside each other in anyone's bed, it's exclusively Harry's - and somewhere around midnight Merlin always sees himself back to the privacy of his own room. It's a heavy consideration. He'd been given the room under the impression that it would be his space, because that's the sort of person Merlin is.

It's a moment yet before he says, “Aye, then go get changed. And don’t bring the dozey fucking dog or I'll put you both out.”

Eggsy bites his lip and looks altogether pleased with the results of his inquiry, tilting his head towards the bathroom before skirting off quickly towards it like Merlin might change his mind.

It’s a bit of a pleasant feeling, being unpredictable, but the consequences are now that he has to prepare for the incoming cuddle session.

* * *

 

Merlin’s in bed by the time Eggsy knocks on the door. Even after Merlin’s called out that he can come in, the boy peers around the wood like a lost animal and blinks at him a few times, making sure it's still okay. 

“Eggsy, bring your arse.” Merlin crows, tossing the blanket beside him back so that Eggsy knows where to go.

“Yeah, yeah. Coming.” Eggsy says.

He tiptoes in the room with nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants on. It’s reminiscent of the first night Merlin ever “met” him, something that would have been better appreciated had he not been focusing on the boy’s panic, and then the boy’s success in punching out a window that later cost 200 pounds to replace.

“Scooch over.” Eggsy says, climbing onto the bed and then grabbing at the blankets to pull them up to his chin. He’s shivering a bit, cuddling up to the cotton of the comforter like it’s giving him life. “It’s bloody freezing in here. What are you, the fucking ice queen?”

Merlin’s not the ice queen, but he likes rolling himself up in his blankets, and Eggsy's not going to vilify him over that. He doesn’t respond to an Eggsy who's already slowly inching his way over into Merlin’s space. When he’s chest to chest with the man, Merlin gives in and wraps his arms around Eggsy’s body, tugging him a bit closer.

“Harry couldn’t sleep like this. God, he’d have hypothermia. He’s older than you, you know, can’t handle extremes.” Eggsy whispers. Merlin imagines Harry as a raisin, shivering in bed and needing Eggsy to spoon him from behind to keep him warm. He almost misses the fit of giggles that Eggsy starts. It's hard to ignore for long, since it quickly descends into the laughing fit from hell.

“that's well spotted, but I'm not sure Harry likes those types of compliments.” Merlin laughs, and he can feel the rumble of it through their chests. It’s a soft vibration, and when Eggsy finally stops laughing enough to breathe, Merlin kisses him on his forehead and rubs his shoulder, hoping to catch him up to a good body temperature, shocked to find that it works just as well for putting Eggsy to sleep.

He can feel the warmth of Eggsy’s breath against his shoulder evening out, and then there’s the dull silence that follows.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Merlin whispers to himself. It’s so quiet, and Eggsy’s such dead weight that it’s almost as if Merlin is in this space by himself. The only indication that the heaviness in his arms is alive is the warmth radiating from it, something that Merlin’s grateful for because it really _is_ chilly in his room.

His final and perhaps most harrowing thought of the day happens to be that of cuddling, and how maybe he’s been a bit unfair to the whole ordeal.

* * *

 

“-th me, and it’s coz I’m special.”

“I’ve no doubt about that.”

“Well, if you wanted. He won’t wake up, I don’t think.”

Merlin opens his eyes just a bit, looking out from under the lids to see who’s talking. His brain hasn’t caught up with his body’s remaining motor functions because it takes a second to recognize the figure standing in his bedroom door for what it is: Harry in his dark red robe with a cup of tea in his hand, hair slicked back from a recent shower.

It feels late in the day. Like Merlin’s overslept. He detests lying in because doing so when there are papers that need done, or men that need handled, or candidates that need put through the wringer, isn’t acceptable for an action-oriented man like him. He’s still not bothered enough to get up, though the thought of being unproductive is hammering in his brain.

“Merlin doesn’t cuddle. I’m curious as to how this has happened.” Harry says.

That seems to quiet Eggsy for a second who, during that time, also seems to consider the curious acceptance from the night before. No argument, no snarky dismissal, nothing. Very un-merlin like, certainly. His hand twitches on Merlin’s chest and he says, “He asked me out to lunch the other day.”

“I’m aware.” Harry admits. There’s a smile in his voice that Merlin can’t be tossed to open his eyes and see in action, and he knows that he’s slowly being caught in the act of compassion - changing his hard-headed ways to try and win more of Eggsy’s favour. He won't mention the savage sort of smugness he feels at having kept Eggsy overnight _without_ running off and reconsidering, but Harry seems pleased enough with the turn of events that Merlin hardly needs to. “But do tell me if you manage to figure it out. I might have to employ your methods.”

“Go to work, Harry.” Merlin croaks, and it startles Eggsy so badly that he butts his head on the underside of Merlin’s chin. There’s the immediate taste of blood and maybe he spoke too soon about the perks of cuddling, because his partner's just busted his bottom lip wide open from being too close. 

If the recruits have to run a extra few miles, it’ll be Eggsy’s fault.

* * *

 

Merlin sets a time aside to walk JB. He's not sure Eggsy or Harry notice, though there are dog treats left in a baggie on the table that make him think either one or both has. Instead of taking lunch again, he goes home to make sure the dog is walked and fed, and then he drags himself back to HQ to take care of business. 

Eggsy slips into his office at some point and gives him a kiss, then makes himself scarce for the rest of the evening, scared of the retaliation.

* * *

 

There's some kind of resolve for Merlin the next time Eggsy’s mid-mission with a wound to his chest, and Merlin goes to personally collect him. Harry’s on the other side of the country and the travel distance between them is greater than the travel distance between Kingsman HQ and the grimy underground club he’d sent Eggsy to just an hour before, so he puts on his own bulletproof jumper and straps up.

Eggsy isn’t mortally wounded, but he’s lost enough blood to make him anxious. Merlin doesn’t like to see _any_ of his agents hurt, let alone one that he spends an indecent amount of time fawning over. He gives himself an objective and a time limit, and then goes and collects him, bringing him back to the shop in one messy, bloody piece.

There’s a man named Jerry who meets them at the door and helps transport Eggsy to medical. Merlin follows behind the both of them and fills out paperwork as they walk. There's a stretcher waiting for them in the main hallway, and so it's not too much trouble.

“Merlin, what the fuck are you doing?” Eggsy slurs at some point.

“Writing up your obituary.” Merlin says.

“Ha bloody ha.” Eggsy snaps back. “Are you actually doing paperwork? I could’ve died!”

He waits for Eggsy to get to his room before putting away his clipboard, and even then the boy isn’t satisfied. He pouts like the god-awful child he turns into when he’s upset, and belligerently tries to bury himself under the covers, quickly realizing that in his physical state it’s near impossible. It's not helping that the loss of blood has made him temperamental.  

“Come and fucking help me. My fingers are freezing.”

Eggsy hasn’t even been stitched up, but he can demand all of these things. Merlin’s almost positive he’s not supposed to be in the room, let alone sitting on the bed and fucking around with a damaged agent. He’s not in any medical gear and he’s not been scrubbed clean of any foreign objects that might infect Eggsy’s wounds - but he decides to go and sit on the edge of the bed anyway as they wait for the medical team to come back and patch him up.

“Give me your hands.” Merlin says.

Eggsy’s a bit glassy-eyed but he does it. Merlin holds them between his own warm palms for a second and then raises them to his lips, blowing heat onto them so that Eggsy won’t feel the lack of blood flow. The boy just watches him, silent as anything, until he works up the energy to say, “Why you been so nice lately?”

“Have I been?” Merlin asks against his knuckles, like he doesn’t know that the past week has been an adventure in normal, couple-y behaviour, bought about by a jealous stint for his other partner. Too many chefs in the kitchen, so the saying goes. He doesn't truly believe it, that they aren't all compatible in some way. He just knows that he doesn't want to be known as the partner that's  _rougher than Harry_. Even if he is.

“I’m not that fucking daft right now, Merlin.” Eggsy says. “One day, okay. You took drugs or something. Two days, maybe. Three days, a week - nah. Don’t happen.”

“You’re not making much sense right now, lad.”

“Yes I _am_ ,” Eggsy grunts as he yanks his hands back. “A month or so ago when I asked you to walk the dog, you called him an overstuffed goblin. A few days ago you're fucking about London letting him do whatever. You’ve done a complete 180. 360. I hate maths, but you get the fucking point.”

“That’s not maths. That’s common sense.”

“Fuck off. Why’d you ask me to lunch?”

“I thought you might be hungry.”

“Why’d you let me sleep with you?”

“You asked, and Harry was already asleep.”

“Why’d you come pick me up from the club when Percival was here?”

“Because…” Merlin starts, freezing when no immediate answer comes to mind. _That one_ wasn’t a planned response - his immediate thought had been to call Harry until he realized that he’d sent the man on a mission elsewhere and that it wasn't practical. Then he’d considered calling Percival or Lancelot, but ultimately decided that he was the best for the mission.

“You don’t do field missions.” Eggsy reminds him unhelpfully.

“Yes, I know.”

“And you don’t cuddle.”

“Ye-”

“And you don’t fucking eat lunch. That’s, like… I’m still trying to wrap my mind around it.”

“Go stick a carrot up your arse.” Merlin advises, fixing Eggsy with a look that he hopes is as baleful as he feels. He doesn't deserve this treatment for trying to be a good person. It's borderline assault.

Eggsy snorts, an action that slowly leads to a more solid type of laughter. “Oi, there he is. Me and Harry wondered when you'd come back.”

“Fucking sod off, the both of ye.” Merlin grumbles. Eggsy only laughs all the harder and clutches his chest, wincing when the action jogs wounds that are likely attempting to close. Merlin sighs and bends over the bed, helping Eggsy adjust so that it’s not as painful for him. The doctor shouldn’t be but a minute, if only he can keep Eggsy from further tearing the cuts until then. As he helps Eggsy settle, and then wipes some of Eggsy’s hair from his forehead, he says, “I'm just trying to gain a new perspective.”

Eggsy doesn’t question him. He does say, “Maybe trying to be a bit less rough, yeah?”

Merlin knows he goes from awkwardly stilted to pleasantly shocked. For someone who’s terrible at maths, Eggsy certainly is gifted in picking up on the finer inklings of human expression. How long he'd been sitting on the knowledge that 'rough' is a term Merlin clearly doesn't like being called isn't clear. So Merlin takes a deep breath and says, “Yes. Just a tad. And only with you.”

Eggsy’s beautiful, but he’s such a little shit. He licks his lips and says “rough ain’t always bad. Wait till these stitches come out, I’m gonna have you bend me the fuck in half, some serious spine breaking shit, please _and_ thanks.”

Merlin snorts just as the doctor walks in. The timing is comical, but Merlin takes the out. He pats Eggsy’s thigh and says, “Sleep.” When he leans in and kisses Eggsy’s nose, he lingers for a moment, wondering if it would be inappropriate to kiss his lips, too. In the end, he ends up doing it. He’s already spent the last week out of his element, adapting to the type of relationship he assumes Eggsy’s always heard about and secretly wanted. What’s one more prince-charming move in a list of many.

Eggsy smiles against his lips.

* * *

 

Merlin's still there when the boy wakes. He's tapping away at his clipboard and doesn't bother looking up when he hears the shifting sheets. He even manages to keep his eyes on his game of 'slither' when Eggsy sings, " _Merlin."_

"What?"

He already knows. The boy doesn't need anything but attention. Apparently, he manages to feel lack of socialization in his sleep, because he always pops awake ready to talk, and his spending the last seven hours sleeping off the day before means that he's likely got a lot to say. Merlin can't bring himself to leave the room to avoid the conversations, though he knows he's got a perfectly valid reason for leaving. He's not doing anybody any favours by sitting around and ignoring his work. Harry will be back soon, and then can take his place so that he can go back to his office and get some of it done. In the meantime, he'll gladly opt into being tortured via a bored Eggsy repeating his name over and over and over again.

Eventually Eggsy sighs and rolls over. It's an almost silent admission when Merlin hears it. Shocking, humorous, and perhaps a bit impish, but Eggsy whispers, " _Harry's never ignored me before._ "

Merlin's astonished when he looks up from his clipboard and says, "You little shit."

The only response he gets is a bone-deep laughter, and Eggsy's complaining soon after that he's ripped his stitches. 


End file.
